


How to Become a Caulker and See the World (or at Least the Sandwich Islands)

by Styfas



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: M/M, Necrophilia, POV Second Person, Tags and warnings can be difficult at times..., Violence, one person's over-tagging could be another's under-tagging...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:34:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28096239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Styfas/pseuds/Styfas
Summary: A second person POV directive to E.C. about what he needs to do to get to the Sandwich Islands.Terror Bingo:  Free Space
Relationships: Cornelius Hickey/Original Cornelius Hickey
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4
Collections: The Terror Bingo





	How to Become a Caulker and See the World (or at Least the Sandwich Islands)

**Author's Note:**

> My first readers say this reads like an old company training video, or a flight safety clip - so, with that in mind... have fun.
> 
> As always, I thank [Drac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drac), who introduced me to The Terror in the first place, and support me by reading (not exactly beta reading, but "filtering" - if that makes sense) my supposed final versions of fics. 🧡 
> 
> Disclaimers: I do not know this narrator. I also do/did not know original Cornelius Hickey, RIP. His AMC The Terror "character" and "Cornelius Hickey" belong to AMC, producers, writers, actors - and anyone else who ever had anything to do with the programme. 
> 
> ALSO - I have quoted phraseology from the show *with love* 🧡 - and that phraseology truly does NOT belong to me!
> 
> I am not making money from this. 
> 
> This is fiction - and that's a fact.

Has life been dull and drab for you lately, E.C.? Do you feel stuck, with no way forward? 

Then it’s about time you had a change of pace.

Would you like to see the world? How about the Sandwich Islands? For months, those drawings in the weeklies have been fodder for your fantasies. Oahu, Maui… Yes, a trip to the Sandwich Islands could be just the thing, and a good place to start over.

Here’s what you do:

Know that there will be no other way to go but by sea. This, of course, means that you’ll need to find a ship. As clever as you are, you know that trying to be a stowaway wouldn’t be practical. So, find someone with a pre-paid ticket for a pleasure voyage, or someone with _orders_ to be on a ship. No prison ship for you, though. Better to find someone in the Royal Navy or the Discovery Service. 

To get to the warmth and paradise of the Sandwich Islands, it’s imperative to realize that frigid temperatures may need to be endured for a while. When things seem difficult, do remember to keep your eyes on the prize. Imagine the beaches, the sun, the food, and the young, nubile tanned boys – and not necessarily in that order. In the meantime, while on board your ship, there will be plenty of men and boys to choose from until you reach your destination. See? It won’t be so bad after all. 

You’re a master at seduction and pickpocketing. You were never interested in working with a gang; you’ve always done your best work alone. So you’ll start by going to the pub, alone, and watching people.

Are you inside the pub now? Good. 

Eavesdrop. 

Ah, there’s a young lad over there who’s engaged in a conversation about sailing. Wend your way closer to find that he’s talking about going on an expedition to find a northwest passage – and after that, the Sandwich Islands.

Perfect. 

He’s no more than five years your junior, and you look reasonably enough like him. Same hair color, same eye color. The nose? Similar enough. No matter that he’s a few inches taller than you. Yes, he’ll be the one. 

Sit next to him and introduce yourself. Buy him a drink. Take time, get to know him. Turn on the E.C. charm, as you have so many times before. 

His name is Cornelius Hickey, but he looks more like a James or a Thomas. Cute lad. A shame you’re going to kill him – because you wouldn’t mind shagging him more than once.

He shows you his orders. They’re signed by a Mr. – No, be sure to get this right! – _Lieutenant_ George Henry Hodgson. It’ll be a year in the Polar Sea, Cornelius tells you, and then, out the other side. From there, it’s on to the Sandwich Islands, where the crew will dry out in the sun and warm up before returning to England.

It’s you who’ll be going to the Sandwich Islands. Cornelius-James-Thomas Hickey will not be going anywhere.

Soften him up and suggest that you go for a walk together by Regent’s Canal. He’ll know most of what’s on your mind. The sex part, yes – but not the killing part.

Once there, get him alone behind some trees, near the walkway. After some extended snogging, turn him around, his backside to you. Shuck down trousers and drawers; yours and his. Be kind; use plenty of saliva. Get his puckered hole lubed properly, slide your cock inside him, and start pumping. Rough, just like you know he wants it. Bang forward repeatedly, balls slapping against his ass. Go ahead; reach forward, grab his cock, and stroke it while he gasps and moans.

You’re going to let him come, of course; it would be the decent thing to do before you kill him. But you’ll come first. Move with vigour; fast and hard. Ram forward, hands clamped firmly around his hips, fingertips digging into his flesh – and hang on tight as you shoot your load into him. With a desperate cry, he’ll reach his climax only seconds after yours. 

Have the presence of mind to reach into your jacket pocket. Pull out your knife and commence to stabbing. Three or four times should be good to start. Let the blade pierce the smooth pale skin and slice into muscles and nerves to bring forth crimson rivulets of blood. Now, pull out the knife – and your cock – and trip him smartly so he falls to the ground, landing on his back. Drop to your knees, straddling him, and puncture his chest, over and over, watching intently until his eyes go blank. Listen as his gasping breaths grow shallow, until there’s that final wheezing thread of air that signals the end of his life.

Keep your wits about you, E.C. Listen! And look around, eyes like a hawk, for any signs of motion. 

Fortunately, there are none.

Take his personals: his wallet, money pouch, and identification of any kind that he may have been carrying. Take any keys he may have. Most importantly, don’t forget to grab those orders from his jacket. You’ll need to present them when, on the appointed date, you report to HMS Terror to begin your new life as Petty Officer Cornelius Hickey, Caulker’s Mate. 

Nothing remaining on his person? Good.

But there are two more things to be done before you leave the area tonight.

 _One:_ Your cock is still hard and sturdy. You’re one of those rare blokes who can go a second round immediately. So, flip the boy over on his stomach and have your way with him again. It’s a bit odd, doing it with an unresponsive body, but it does give you total control over your pleasure. He’s still warm and soft – and tight. In less than thirty seconds, you’re filling him with your jism again.

 _Two:_ Get yourself tucked back in and buttoned up. Do the same for him. Now, pick him up off the ground. But if you’re not strong enough to pick him up and carry him the full distance to the edge of the walkway, you’ll just have to drag him. However it happens, just get him there, and with haste. Be sure to take him into your arms when get to the edge; it’ll be so satisfying to hear the splash when you _toss_ him into Regent's Canal. Be sure to watch until he sinks. It may take some time – but eventually, he will.

Well done.

Cornelius Hickey. A fabulous name, isn’t it? Go ahead, say the first name: _Cornelius._ Ah, the way the _r_ , and the _n_ and then the _l_ roll off the tongue; delicious! In contrast, “Hickey” is abrupt, with its aspirate _h_ and the hard consonant, _k_. You laugh at the incongruity of the two names in juxtaposition – but they sounded so good together when _he_ said it. Now, it’s your turn. Try it: _Cornelius Hickey._ Wasn’t that easy? Get accustomed to saying and hearing that name. It’s _your_ name now.

Congratulations, Cornelius Hickey. The Sandwich Islands await you.

Enjoy your voyage!


End file.
